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Well, AICN COMICS: SHOOT THE MESSENGER is your weekly one stop shop for comic book news that’s dropped in the previous week. Thanks to Newsarama, CBR, Wizard, etc. for reporting it as it breaks. Click on the links for the original stories. This column cuts the crap to run down all the vital information for those of you who don’t follow it as it comes in, and serves it all up with that special ingredient of @$$y goodness. It’s also the place for interviews, previews, and special reports.

Hey all, Ambush Bug
here. Before we take another trip on the Spinner Rack to the Future, let’s announce the winners of our Fox Atomic NIGHTMARE FACTORY VOLUME 2 “Send Me Your Nightmares” Contest. Below are the five winners and their nightmares. Be sure to read them with the light on…

E. Lewis

So, I've had a dream that comes and goes for the last five years or so. Basically I am standing on a large metal staircase that is elevated really high in the air. I'm not sure how high, but when I look over the edge it's similar to the view out of an airplane window. As soon as I start to take the first step a bunch of babies/toddlers start falling down the stairs. Of course, since I'm at the bottom, they're falling right at me. I can hear all of their bones breaking and moans as they hit each step. When they finally come to a stop, the groaning starts. The bastards get back up all broken and bruised and crying and attack me. They bite me on my ankles and arms and actually up towards my neck. Naturally, I start running. I'm pushing them out of the way as I climb this seemingly endless staircase. The babies are clinging to me by their teeth like miniature pit bulls on steroids. I do reach the top of the steps in my dream. By this time I'm missing most of my fingers on one hand. I can't see out of one of my eyes because of the blood pouring in and I'm pretty sure some of my intestines are hanging out, but I'm too scared to look. Anyway, the top of the stairs turn into a slide. I get on the slide and begin sliding down when I here the urk of 1000 little stomachs turning. I face my head upwards and see that the freaking babies are throwing up down the slide. Their bile runs faster than I do and soon enough I am covering in puke, blood and what might be kidneys. Finally the sliding comes to a stop. I wipe the hurl from my eyes and see that I'm back at the bottom of the metal staircase. The sound of crying and broken bones starts right back up as I see these demon spawn throwing themselves back down the stairs to meet me.

Only one word for this one, gross…

Dr. Zeus

I am driving in my car down a long stretch of hill, and there are cars on both sides of me. I'm in a turning lane in the middle of the road, and I'm trapped with cars coming and going both ways. Suddenly a lone car pulls in front of me thru the traffic on my right.
SLAM!
I hit the car and I'm propelled forward into the windshield. The impact cracks the glass as my face is pushed up through the shards.
.......Snip!
My right eyelid is filleted off and sticking into the shattered glass of the windshield.
.........everything goes to black.
When I come too, I am strapped down in a chair with bright lights in my face. A pale woman dressed as a nurse is s..l..o..w..l..y raking a cloth thru my forehead. So excruciating is the pain that it feels like she’s using sandpaper on my forehead. Then I see the needle...
She tells me that "unfortunately" the area around my eyelid has to be numbed.
.......unfortunately for me, not her.
She takes the needle and places it in the corner of my eye. Just above the tear duct.
And push push pushhhhhhh........POP!
It finally breaks thru the very pliable skin in the corner of my eye!

Sometimes what you can’t see is more frightening than what you can, as with this spine-tingler.

mayert103

In the dream, I was standing with someone I knew in a dark room in an apartment the size of a city. We had been secretly working on some sort of experiment, and it was almost done. The only thing left to do was wait to see if our experiment would work. The person asked me to get them something, so I left the room and entered what would have been a living room, but it was the size of a city block. It was dark in here, too, but more like nighttime inside of the place, as opposed to just having a light off. I walked through the room and made my way to another room.
I must have found what I was looking for, because now I was walking back the way I had come. I came upon a bar on my way back, in the middle of the room. There was a counter running around it, with a fluorescent light under the surface, creating the only illumination in the area and casting a ghostly glow on its surroundings. I walked over to it and sat down. A woman was sitting in the seat next to me, asking the bartender for a drink. I must have known these people, because I offered to make the drink since the bartender had just had a full shift, and I couldn’t sleep anyway. The woman didn’t want to inconvenience me, and I said “It’s no trouble. I’m not doing anything important, anyway.” And she said “Aw, no. I don’t want to keep you. What about your dream?” and I tilted my head to the side, confused, and said “What dream?” to which she replied “This dream.”
Suddenly I wasn’t in the bar area anymore, I was laying down (as I actually was in my sleep-state) completely paralyzed with a wave of fear and anxiety. My one arm was across my face, and since I couldn’t move it was blocking most of my vision on one side, except for a small patch I could see out of the corner of my eye. I could see directly in front of me, though, and in the darkness covering one wall I could see a huge fleshy mass. I knew it was some kind of creature, and I started praying that it wouldn’t see me. Since the room I was in was city-sized, my mind perceived the thing as vast, able to devour the entire city. In less than a second, the thing was coated in some sort of white material that I somehow knew was a cocoon. I kept trying to move my body, hoping to get away before the thing came out of the cocoon as something even worse.
Next to me, though it sounded far off in the city, I heard something breathing in and out, but it rasped like some sort of horrible, unearthly thing. I still couldn’t see anything on that side of me, but I heard the sound again, closer this time, and my heart started beating faster and faster as I tried to will my body to move again, and that’s when I woke up gasping for air.

This guy does a great job of setting the tone for this one, paving the way for a damn creepy dream.

Michael Wilde

I was working as a production assistant on a film in Winnipeg. Fall was turning to winter and I was stuck doing traffic lock up when the weather took a turn for the worst. There was a heavy downpour of rain, which eventually turned to hail as the temperature dropped. I was under dressed for the weather conditions and stuck at my post for nine hours. Driving home at the end of the day my throat was on fire and I was burning up from fever. I made it back and was out as soon as my head hit the pillow. Then the nightmare began.
I was sitting in the living room watching TV with my grandma. I remember feeling lethargic and resigned to my current state, which I didn't fully understand. I looked at my grandmother who was sitting in her reclining chair. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet with tears. She was obviously distraught. She looked at me and kept shaking her head and repeating, "You don't deserve this. You don't. It's not right." Despite an overwhelming fatigue I was not in any pain. I told her not to worry about me, that I was fine and had accepted my fate. I assured my grandmother as best I could and excused myself to bed. I walked down the hallway to my bedroom and decided to use the washroom. I was so weak I had to hold myself up on the bathroom sink for to regain my strength. When I held my head up and looked in the mirror the reflection I saw sent me into shock. My face was gaunt, my eyes were sunken and the sclera around the iris was yellow. I was horribly pale, my skin was ashen, there were angry red lesions covering my face. Patches of my hair were missing; I pulled out clumps of it running my hand over my head. I leaned into the mirror to inspect my teeth. My mouth was rotten and filled with dried blood. My gums had receded and turned black. I was missing teeth and the ones I had were brown with decay. I pulled out a rotten tooth with little effort and held it in front of my eyes. Fresh blood filled my mouth.
Then a low electric hum filled my ears. The hum grew louder until it built into a sonic scream. The bathroom door flew open. My grandma had a large butcher's knife raised over her head. Tears streaked down her face. She pleaded, "I'm sorry, you don't deserve this" and plunged the knife down towards me. That was it. I sprang up in bed with a horrible jolt and gasped for breath. The sonic scream was still echoing in my ears. My sheets were soaked through with sweat. I went to the bathroom sink to wet my dry throat and peeked in the mirror. The face reflected back wasn't going to sell any magazines but it was the one I knew and I was thankful for it.

Finally, sometimes it’s the simple ones that are the most effective…

Ryan T. Parrish

Someone cut my front teeth off with toenail clippers.

Thanks to all who participated. Expect your copies of NIGHTMARE FACTORY VOLUME 2 in the mail soon. The rest of you should seek out Fox Atomic’s NIGHTMARE FACTORY Volume 2 on sale at finer comic shops.

Damn I love me some Gary Frank. Can’t wait to get ACTION COMICS #869 on Wednesday.

Next up is a bizarrely beautiful project from Bluewater Productions, Inc. The book is called BATHOLOMEW OF THE SCISSORS and it looks to be a comic book experience that is truly unique. The artist, Daniel Crosier, draws with a wood burner and the pages previewed here are actually burned into the wood giving it a creepily antique-like look. Written by Chad Helder, this bizarre horror miniseries will be in stores September 24th.

See what I mean about that art? Spooky as hell. I can’t wait to see the rest of it. BARTHOLOMEW OF THE SCISSORS #1 hits the stores on September 24th.

What do you guys think of the rumors of Mark Millar wanting to write a Superman Movie Trilogy?

I bought that EMO shit comic on a recommendation from an asshole reviewer. I should have trusted me bloody instincts.
<P> in saying that I have found lots of good stuff via the assholes, so I can't be whinging too much. and I know this is kind of the wrong column but I needed to VENT.
<P>
And how much did they have to pay Grant Morrison to write such a crawly-bum-lick into for the TPB? I haven't wrong a comic this bad in a long time. fuckin awful.

my first though is that he is the wrong Mark for the job, Mark WAID would probably be a better choice. millar strikes me as one of those guys that actually hates super-heros. hates the conventions, hates the costumes, hates the very nature of super-hero comics in general. so chances are when hollywood reads his script, and it is a total 180 from every other superman story ever told, they will probably give him the job.

.....three guys that for the life of me i can't keep strait, or tell apart from one another. even if they all walked into the room with t-shirts on that said
: "millar", "ennis", "ellis" on the front.
<p>
guess i must offer millar an apology if he actually does like super-heros. but who can blame me so many guys writting comics these days hate what they write about.
<p>
i would still rather see if backing up a dump truck full of money to his house in northampton would get alan moore to write a superman movie. now THAT would be "cool news" indeed.